“I have seen the text.”
“And what do you make of it?”
Minobu scented a trap. The Warlord would be looking for a scapegoat after the calamity on An Ting. Any officer showing sympathy for the Dragoons might be singled out. Minobu knew he had made an enemy of Samsonov years ago when he had taken Wolf's side during the Warlord's attempt to gain control of the Dragoons. Every time he had spoken out against Samsonov's plans, the Warlord's hatred of him had deepened. Samsonov would probably be glad to find evidence implicating Minobu in the recent disastrous events. Minobu's previous service as PSL Officer to the Dragoons and his known friendship with Jaime Wolf would prejudice many staunch Kurita officers against him. As much caution as honor would permit was in order.
“As the Warlord must know, I left An Ting on the morning after the rioting started. At that time, Chu-saAkuma seemed to believe that he was in control of the situation.
“Many things are claimed in the Dragoon statement. If their allegations are true, their challenge offers House Kurita more honor than it deserves.” To forestall the expected outburst and to soothe Samsonov's ego, Minobu went on quickly. “But you are Warlord of Galedon and you would not allow such infamous deeds to take place in your district. Therefore, the Dragoons must be lying. Their challenge is so much bluster, sheer bravado to hide their own criminal nature. As a man of high position, you will, of course, ignore the empty braggadocio of your social inferiors.”
Samsonov gave him a predatory smile, as though Minobu's words pleased him. “On the contrary, I cannot ignore the situation.”
The Warlord's reaction caught Minobu off guard. Shimatta,he thought. I have given Samsonov whatever it was he wanted.
Obviously pleased to see Tetsuhara off balance, Samsonov went on. “I am a loyal samurai and know my duty. This battle that the Dragoons desire must come to pass.”
“I doubt that combat is their desire,” Minobu offered, angry at Samsonov's enjoyment of his discomfort.
“Do not doubt it, Tetsuhara,” Samsonov said, eyes sparkling like a cat playing with its quarry. “Wiser heads have expected as much for some time. The Coordinator has known this day was coming and has prepared for it. The mercenaries' challenge fits smoothly into his plans.”
Minobu was confused. He did not understand what the Warlord meant. The Coordinator had always sided in favor of the Dragoons. If Minobu had been able to speak with Wolf about his visit to Luthien, perhaps this might make sense.
Leaning back in his chair, the Warlord folded his hands over his paunch. His next words brought Minobu's attention back to the present.
“Armed forces of the Draconis Combine will meet the foolish Dragoons in battle here on Misery. You shall lead them, GeneralTetsuhara,” Samsonov announced, tossing a small box onto the desk. The lid of the box popped open, revealing the Tai-shorank insignia nestled within. One, with no clip to restrain it, tumbled free to lie, pin up, on the desk.
Minobu was shocked. Lead the fight against the Dragoons? He had known that the battle would come, but he had hoped to stand away from it. That hope was dashed as he listened to the order to command the fight against them.
And now he was a Tai-sho.Another empty promotion. No, worse than empty. This one held a sharp, sharp spike to pierce him.
“You are overcome by this honor,” the Warlord said, voice dripping with false sympathy. “You may even think it coincidental. But then, you do not have the farseeing eyes of our Lord Takashi.”
Samsonov rocked forward to place his elbows on the smooth surface of the desk. He interlaced his fingers, holding them to one side of his face. “Yes, indeed. Last October, I was favored with a haikufrom Lord Kurita. As you know, he often uses such forms for his more significant orders. I believe that you will find its intent quite clear.”
Samsonov produced a sheet of rice paper from the central drawer of the desk and offered it to Minobu. He settled back in his seat, a smug grin on his face as Minobu read the poem:
Dragon feels spring's chill. Iron hunter aims the shaft. Running wolf must fall. Like the Dragon in the first line, Minobu felt a chill. “You are the iron hunter, Tetsuhara,” the Warlord spat out. “You are chosen by the Coordinator to execute the purge of the rebellious Dragoons. He knows of your loyalty to House Kurita and respects it. He knows that you will not fail him.”
“I shall do my best.”
“Ah ha. No false modesty, Tetsuhara,” Samsonov said mildly. His voice shifted to diamond hardness. “You have myevery confidence,” he said. “You will succeed.”
Samsonov heaved his bulk up from the chair and strode to the wall, where he pulled down a map of the district. Grease pencil lines covered the slick plastic surface, all converging at the pale yellow dot that represented the Misery system. “Already Kurita units are moving to take up the challenge.”
“Then you have a strategy in place.”
“Of course, Tai-sho.The Coordinator may wish you to lead the forces that will destroy the mercenaries, but this is still my district. You command through me. Wakarimasu-ka?”
“Hai,Warlord,” Minobu responded instantly.
Samsonov's eyes were hard and glittering. “See that you remember it,” he commanded.
“Look here,” he said, pulling down a second map, this one showing the local sun and its five planets. “We will meet the renegade Dragoons here on Misery, as they desire. But we will have a few surprises for them.
“You will be in command of the ground forces, including all regiments of the Ryuken and elements from the Seventeenth and Twenty-First Galedon Regulars. Also under your command will be the Eighth Sword of Light. Quite an honor for a new Tai-sho.
“My Fifth Galedon Regulars and the Third Proserpina Hussars will remain in space, hidden here behind the fourth moon. We will allow the Dragoons to land unmolested so that we may destroy them without risking our own valuable space assets.”
“But their BattleMechs will be most vulnerable in the landing phase,” Minobu interrupted.
“I did not ask for a critique of my strategy,” Samsonov growled. “A space battle will increase the risk that the ambush forces will be spotted. The Wolves must not be aware that they are really lambs going to the slaughter.”
Minobu did not see how an orbital battle would endanger well-hidden DropShips on the far side of a moon, but he held his peace. The more detailed Samsonov's planning was, the less responsibility Minobu would have in executing the loathsome orders to fight the Dragoons.
Samsonov seemed to take Minobu's silence as confirmation of his superior intelligence. “Once battle is joined, you will entice the bandit Wolf to commit his troops fully. When he has done that, my forces will leave the moon and drop in behind him. The Dragoons will be caught in a vise and we will crush them.”
“The basic strategy is sound,” Minobu said, careful not to offend the Warlord again. “It will depend on the details.”
“And those I am leaving to you,” the Warlord replied drily.
Minobu should have known thatwas coming. His karma would not allow him to escape easily.
“I will leave a small staff while I conclude the troop transfers. See that they are aware of your arrangements. The drop forces are to be informed of landing zones and expected opposition. You will, naturally, see to it that any opposition to the landings is minimal. My 'Mechs must land intact, able to bring their full fighting strength to bear.”
“I understand, Warlord.”
Samsonov looked at Minobu and almost smiled. It was as though the Warlord knew some secret joke, to which Minobu's words were the punchline. A moment later, he swaggered out of the room, leaving Minobu alone with his thoughts. No matter how many times he went over it, the answer always came out the same: he was bound to duty. But what had he done to deserve this karma?